A Life Time Ago
by OoLostGirloO
Summary: "When Shawn had first met Carlton, he'd hated him. And not just in the way kids his age just sometimes didn't get along, he hated him, with a passion...until they met for a second time. Despite his best efforts, Shawn couldn't keep Carlton out this time."
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**What goes around comes around, again, and again, and…**

**2006**

Shawn stifled a yawn as he casually strolled into the Santa Barbara police department. What had once been a one off as moonlighting for the police department, had quickly become a regular ritual for Shawn every Monday for two and a half months before he'd skipped town. He'd called the tips in under a different alias every time of course, so his father wouldn't know. At first he'd only called them in to bug his dad off; that the crack in the case came from some anonymous tip seemed to be the easiest way at the time without having to deal first hand with the blow out.

He'd only been back in town two days after five years on the road, but had been in need of some quick cash. The TV had been on in his hotel room, and it had been purely coincidence that a news broadcast had been airing at the time. So he'd called in the info he'd deduced from the footage, and been told to come in the next day for the reward money. Pride had never really been an issue for Shawn Spencer, hell, if the boot fit, he'd ware it, and make sure he found one the same size for his other foot. Despite all this, Shawn was particularly proud of his latest tip, he'd practically gift wrapped the guy for them. So at first he wasn't at all concerned when he was asked to wait while the lady at the desk went to fetch someone for him, despite his usual breeze in, collect money, and breeze out routine.

As he waited, his feet – as they tended to do – leisurely took him for a stroll where he was most unwanted, eventually bringing him to the bull pen, were the hustle and bustle of police work was at its peak. Uniformed officers zipped this way and that, completely focused on their tasks, and completely oblivious to Shawn's presence. Out of the corner of his eye, a dark patch of familiar hair caught Shawn's gaze. Turning to what Shawn assumed was the head detectives desk, he unconsciously sized the man seated there up. Curiously Shawn frowned, he didn't believe he'd met the man before, so why should he seem familiar? With a shrug he decided to see what he could deduce from the head detective, or what little he could see of the side of his face.

Obviously he's unhappy with something. _Bags under the eyes. Brow furrowed. Mouth down turned._

No one seems too concerned with his attitude, possibly a constant stoop?

No, something's worse than usual for him. _Hand gripping his hair. Other hand tapping pencil furiously on table top. Pile of paper work untouched._

His eyes keep flickering to the desk opposite him.

His partner's desk. _Similar case files on both desks. Desks positioned for easy convers, yet no signs of recent activity._

Dead?

No. _Desk still cluttered_. If his partner had died, he'd have been on leave, obviously something's happened recently, not as serious as a death to warrant time off.

Oh, Partners in both senses of the word_. Coffee mugs from same place – not incriminating no, the napkins under the coffee mugs tells a different story though. Printing in top left corner of the restaurant down town, rather out of the way, obviously avoiding people they know, not to mention a bit high class for simple co-workers._

So she's been reassigned. Recently. _Desks not cleared off yet._ However…

They've already found a replacement_. Female. Blonde. Desk hardly used yet, not much paperwork cluttering it up._ She's new around the station too_. Keeps second guessing herself, though covers it well._

She's obviously uncomfortable with her current position. _Jaw clenched. Mouth tight. Keeps sighing. Watch on left wrist stands out, doesn't blend in with her suit. Something's written inside. Miami?_

"Mr Spencer?" Shawn turned, inwardly grimacing. Shawn was Shawn. His father? That was Mr Spencer. "The Chief will see you know." Shawn followed, intrigued at whatever reason the Chief of police wished to see him. He was slightly more cautious when he was lead to an interrogation room though.

"Mr Spencer I presume?" the corporate woman seated on the far side of the table said, standing as Shawn was lead in.

"The one and only," Shawn replied. "You know, unless you count all the other Spencers."

"Please, _sit_," the blonde continued, ignoring Shawn's comment, yet adding emphasis to her request. Shawn did as was asked, folding his hands before him on the table. "I'll cut straight to the chaise; we know it was you who called in all those tips five years ago for the months of September, October and November. We have a list here of all your alias', and conformation from your father linking you to each one used," as she spoke a sheet of paper was slid across the table separating them, a list printed down the page of all the names Shawn had gone under when calling in tips. Shawn leaned back in his chair, unfazed, though eyes still locked onto the paper. Trust his father to rat him out, Shawn new it was just a question of time before his father found the connection linking him to the tips called in.

"Now, would you care to tell me where you got your information?" Shawn looked up from the list blankly. "Or are you in some way involved in these crimes? If you are I'm sure we could come to some kind of arrangement. Perhaps a reduced sentence for any information you can provide us with that will helps us put others involved behind bars?"

"Just like I stated here in these records," Shawn said indicating the small scribbling at the base of the page. "I got all the information I needed from the news."

"I'm sorry Mr Spencer, but do you actually believe we'd buy that just by watching a few minutes of selected footage from the news, you'd be able to solve all these crimes?" Obviously this Chief wasn't in the mood to play games. Which was no wonder, judging by the way she held herself she was obviously pregnant. Morning sickness must be a bitch. They argued for a while more, and to be honest, if Shawn wanted to have a meaningless blow out, he'd go track his father down. So he decided to put this argument to rest the fastest way he could think off.

"You really want to know how I knew all that information?" Shawn asked throwing his hands up. "I'm psychic!" The Chief was silent for a moment, before she frowned in irritation, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Is this your attempt at going for the insanity plea?" she asked.

"It's true, how else would I know all about all these unrelated crimes?" Shawn said gesturing to the sheet she'd produced. "Okay so maybe there's a couple of connections here and there? But all of them? There's absolutely nothing to link them all." Shawn could see by the frown descending on the Chiefs brow as she read over the list that she was trying to find a loop hole in Shawn's claim.

"Before we looked hard enough at all the names, we couldn't find a link in your alias', but it was still there," the Chief argued.

_Make it real_. A voice in the back of his mind piped up.

"Ah, I'm getting something!" Shawn cried, hand going up to the side of his head as though he were experiencing a painful headache. "Yes, I see," Shawn gasped. "I thought it was odd you would be the one to interrogate me. Why would the Chief get involved in a case like this unless…" Shawn paused, peaking though his scrunched up eyes to see the Chief watching him intensely. "Office romance is frowned upon in most carriers, but so much more in the police force. Your head detective was seeing his partner, and it was only recently discovered. She's been transferred and he's, for lack of a better word, in the dog house. You've got internal affairs sniffing around and breathing down your neck. You're taking all the heat." Shawn took several deep breaths and let the act drop, meeting the Chief's wide eyes.

_Sweeten the deal._

"Ah, I'm getting something else," Shawn cried, his chair nearly toppling over as he thrashed. "A palm tree and a sun. A watch and a gun. A sandwich and a roll up. No wait, that was my dinner last night." Shawn paused, shook his head, and dove back into his 'vision.' "His new partner, she's new to the precinct, just transferred from, M-Mango's United. Michigan Union. Miami University! That's it, the University of Miami." Panting hard, Shawn sank back into his seat opposite the Chief.

"Well," the Chief breathed slightly in shock. "Mr Spencer that was… well I'm not sure what that was." They sat in silence for a while before the Chief rose with a sigh. "You're free to go. Get out of my sight before I change my mind."

"And my reward?" Shawn asked as the Chief made her way into the hall. He saw her shoulders stiffen.

"Wait here and I'll organise it for you," was here unhappy reply. So of course, Shawn's feet once again took him where they wished, which just so happened to once again be the bull pen. Shawn looked around for a moment. The head detectives partner was still there, but the man himself was no longer in sight. It was odd, the last time Shawn had felt a pull this strong, where he couldn't stop his feet from going where his head told them not to, had been when-

He'd been turning on the spot, taking in the inside of the precinct when he'd almost knocked over the head detective on his way to his desk. Shawn wasn't sure what it was, but the word slipped from his lips before he knew what he was saying, as though his eyes recognised the sight before them before his brain did.

"Carl?" the head detective, half way through snapping at Shawn for nearly knocking him over, paused. Suspicion shone in his eyes as he drew himself up.

"Do I know you?" the head detective asked cautiously.

"Carlton? Carlton Lassiter?" Shaw asked, completely stunned still. "You're not supposed to be here, you were getting transferred to San Francisco." The detective was just opening his mouth to repeat his question when the Chief's voice rang out.

"-Spencer? Has anyone seen Shawn Spencer?" Shawn watched in slow motion as recognition flooded Carlton Lassiter's features. His eyes widened. His mouth went slack. The papers in his hands fluttered as they fell to the floor. And a lost confused emotion shone in his deep Irish eyes.

And then Shawn's feet decided pains of the heart effected them too. Carlton's face was replaced by the Chiefs, paper slid into his hand, and then the outside world was there to greet him as he ran faster than he had in quite a while, straight to his bike, before screeching from the parking lot as fast as he could.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**The End? Or just the Beginning?**

**1985**

When Shawn had first met Carlton, he'd hated him. And not just in the way kids his age just sometimes didn't get along, he _hated_ him, with a passion, one that despite his father's best efforts, never understood. He himself knew exactly why he hated Carlton, because Carlton wanted to be a cop, but this didn't help him in overcoming his hate, even if he knew he was being childish. His father had loved Carlton ever since those words left his mouth, for he knew they would never leave his sons, and thus, Shawn would never let Carlton get close.

Shawn watched from where he crouched behind the driftwood on the beach as Carlton made his way down his garden path to the front door, which oddly enough, always seemed like the back door to Shawn. He knocked twice, politely, as he did everything else in his life. With a huff Shawn twisted back around and sat down in the sand to watch the oddly still ocean tide ripple in the slight wind. His father would be at the door by now, telling little Carlton that Shawn wasn't in at the moment, but he's sure he'll be very disappointed when he finds out he missed Carlton. Shawn wondered briefly how long it would take Carlton hearing those words repeated again and again to realise they weren't true.

To be safe, Shawn decided to wait a whole ten minutes before making his way back to the house. And in hindsight, he wished he'd only stayed five. Seven minutes into his wait, according to his yellow and green watch, a shadow loomed over Shawn's hiding spot. Looking up quickly Shawn was blinded by the light silhouetting the man standing over him.

"Hey kid, you out here by yourself?" a disembodied voice asked. Two thoughts jumped into Shawn's head at that moment, both being his father's advice. The first one was; '_Don't ever talk to strangers Shawn, just come straight home_, _they can be tracked down later, _' the second was; '_Shawn, when you find yourself in a tight spot, where you know you're in danger, lie, lie your ass off. Cause even if it's nowhere near plausible, it'll give the guy pause, and you take that pause and you run, got it?_' Unfortunately, both those lines of advice clashed, so while Shawn was hurriedly trying to decide what to do, while his heart beat an unsteady tune in his chest, the guy crouched down next him, blocking him into the drift wood. "You hurt?" The guy looked fairly young, probably late twenties, early thirties. _Brown mousey hair. Tan skin. Six foot seven with a scar under his left eye that looked like a tear drop._

"N-no," Shawn got out, trying to rack his brains for a solution to the problem at hand. "My friend's just gone back to his house to get his- to get something to eat quickly," Shawn added, waving his hand vaguely at the drift wood, indicating the line of houses he knew were separated by a road on the other side of the pile of wood. The guy looked slightly confused, before a drop of suspicion crept into his eyes.

"Hey, you're not a run away or nothing right?" the guy asked.

"No," Shawn replied, his hands gripping his arms to stop them fidgeting, a tell his father had always warned him would get him caught out, though in this case it wasn't lying that was causing him to fidget, but fear. "Look my friend will be back in any minute."

"You positive, cause I'm sure there's someone waiting for you who's very worried," the guy said softly, referring to Shawn's denial, almost purposely ignoring the second comment. "Why don't you come out of there hey? We can find them together," the guy added, reaching out a large warn hand. Shawn paused for a moment, weighing up his options. The guy didn't look dangerous, or like he had an ulterior motive, he looked nice, kind even. Slowly, Shawn extended his arm, hand ready to take the strangers.

"Shawn, I told you I wouldn't be long, come on, mum said you could come over." Shawn and the man jumped slightly as Carlton came round the side of the pile of drift wood, hurriedly ducking between the two before him and grasping Shawn's still outstretched hand. Shawn's legs felt like jelly as he hurried to keep up with Carlton as he was dragged across the sand towards the road. He threw a curious look over his shoulder, but the guy was already gone. Carlton's hand tightened on his. They paused for a moment at the road before Carlton was again pulling Shawn after him. Both stopped when they reached Shawn's front yard, both breathing harder than usual as they looked back to the beach.

"What were you thinking?" Carlton asked as he turned to Shawn, who was lost for words at the sudden out burst from the otherwise timid Carlton. "Everyone knows you don't talk to strangers Shawn, and you were just about ready to go with that guy!"

"No I wa-" Shawn began weakly.

"You had your hand outstretched and everything. You were this close Shawn," Carlton said, bringing his thumb and index finger to almost touching before Shawn's face. "This close to never being heard from again!" The two boys looked to each other, both frowning angrily. Then Shawn blinked, feeling as though he'd been in a car, thundering down a road before suddenly stopping, throwing Shawn against his seat belt, his stomach heaving and clenching uncomfortably as his whole body shook violently, and Shawn couldn't help the tears flooding his young eyes.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," Carlton gasped hurriedly, his hands flying up into the air and making strange grasping gestures as the clenched and unclenched, unsure of what to do as all previous anger left him. A sob ripped its way from Shawn's throat as he shook his head, trying to dispel the unwanted emotions that had suddenly bombarded him. "I- I-" Carlton stuttered, completely at a loss.

"What happened?" Suddenly, there was Henry Spencer, in his cop mode, his eyes scanning the area for the cause of his sons distress. Shawn, still shaking his head, turned to his dad and reached blindly for him with shaking arms. "Hey Kiddo, I'm here, I'm here," Henry assured as he lifted his son, who was only just still small enough for the action. "Carlton what happened?" Henry demanded, turning to the small boy who still stood before him.

"I-I-" Carlton stuttered again before the full weight of Henry's anger descended on him and he ran, down the garden path, along the side walk for a few houses, then into his house, slamming the front door behind him. Arm's wound protectively around his still tearful son, Henry made his way back inside where his wife waited, ready to take her son from his arms and whisper words of assurance and love.

Carlton stopped coming over after that, Shawn never actually told his father what had happened, but Henry assumed the two boys had had a fight, so didn't question the sudden absence of the boy next door. Eventually Shawn put the event behind him, along with Carlton, and the two just became another unforgettable memory in the back of Shawn's mind, that was, until they met for a second time. Despite his best efforts, Shawn couldn't keep Carlton out this time.

* * *

**The R2 the R**

thanks **fantomfaire** for being like the first person to review both my first psych fics :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Choices made while drinking your sorrows away, are not always regrettable**

**2006**

Shawn slammed his now empty drink down on the counter, hailing the bar tender as he passed to give him another. He was definitely racking up his bill. He was already on his seventh shot in as many minutes. He wished Carlton would stop stepping into his life when he least expected it, taking him by surprise and throwing all the work he'd done to the wind. His drink burnt his throat as he threw his head back. Surly seven was enough to dull his judgement and loosen him up enough to find someone to take him home, make him forget.

His eyes were on the guy at the end of the bar, he looked slightly younger than Shawn, fidgety two, as though he wasn't sure what he was doing at a gay bar. Not him then, Shawn decided, he'd most likely chicken out before they even got anywhere. He swivelled on his bar stool, turning to face the rest of the bar. He automatically spotted two guys seated by themselves, though he hadn't drunk enough to lower his standard that much. Onto someone else then. His eyes were passing over a large group who all seemed to be together, already discarding any of them as possible candidates, when his eyes caught someone watching him.

He blushed slightly when Shawn met his gaze, but held firm. Meaning he wasn't likely to chicken out. Shawn smiled slightly and tilted his head invitingly, suggestively. The guy smiled in return, threw back the remainder of his drink, said something to the people around him, and began making his way to the bar and Shawn. Shawn quickly warmed to the stranger, he was confident, not self-conscious, there for someone easy to get along with. He took the seat beside Shawn without hesitation, leaning forward on the counter to hail the bartender over.

"What's your poison?" the guy asked as the bartender made his way over. Shawn looked down to his empty shot glass.

"I think I've probably had enough," Shawn admitted. "But if you're offering, a coke sounds nice right about now." The guy grinned and turned to the barkeep.

"Two cokes please," he relayed to the man behind the bar. "I'm Dan by the way," the guy said as he turned back to Shawn.

"Shawn," Shawn replied, smiling flirtatiously. Dan returned the smile, his mainly seeming amused.

"So I'm guessing the guy at the end of the bar isn't your type after all?" Dan asked, indicating the younger male Shawn had been considering previously. Shawn smiled and raised his eyebrows. "I admit I was looking in this general direction earlier and happened to notice you." Shawn laughed.

"Fancy that," Shawn chortled as his and Dan's cokes were brought to them. "And to answer your question, no, the kid down the end didn't meet all my conditions," Shawn continued.

"Conditions?" Dan asked curiously, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yes, he's too," Shawn paused, looking for the right word.

"Young?" Dan asked.

"Oh well that too," Shawn admitted. "But no, I was thinking more; he looks as if he lacks experience," Shawn explained. "I'm not really looking for something complicated tonight." Shawn watched Dan closely for his reaction, the statement wasn't just to explain why he hadn't chosen to go with the guy at the end of the bar, it was also to let Dan know in advance that this encounter was more than likely going to result in a one night stand. Dan nodded and took another sip, not seeming to be put out by Shawn's subtle remark. Shawn smiled and sipped slowly at his drink.

"So your friends don't mind you ditching them?" Shawn asked, turning round to gaze at the group Dan had left.

"No," Dan laughed. "I told them to begin with I wasn't staying long. Though I hadn't actually thought my night would end like this."

"Oh, trust me, it hasn't ended yet," Shawn assured, looking up at Dan through his lashes, a mischievous smile on his lips. Dan returned the smile with just as much intensity.

"So," Dan began, standing and leaning on the back of Shawn's bar stool, turning his head so that his lips were at Shawn's ear, though he faced into the rest of the room. Shawn could feel Dan's breath ghosting over his neck and the warmth of his skin on his ear which made his flesh prickle enjoyably. "You're place or mine?" Shawn smiled into his drink.

* * *

**The R2 the R:**

Thank you **Zoe** and **Dave Strider** for your comments :)

**Fantomfaire**, I regret to inform you that it will probably be a few chapters yet before *current* Shawn and Carlton talk :P but I hope you stay tuned, and aren't too angry at Shawn (or me for that matter since I wrote him) for this chapter

**Guest**, Shawn and Carlton are *about* the same age, but not exactly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**A Fresh start with an Old Acquaintance**

**1995**

Shawn was surprised his father had stumbled across him so fast, he'd purposely gone to the last place he thought his father would look for him. But then again, that may have been his mistake. He was too busy keeping track of Kristen's hands to see the cruiser pulling up in the review mirror. He'd met Kristen two weeks ago to the day, another chance encounter in Shawn's life that just happened to work out far better than he thought it would. See, apparently Kristen was a girl, trapped in a man's body. So Shawn got the guy for himself, and the girl for his father's son. A win-win situation if no one found out.

But Shawn knew it wouldn't last long, he wasn't one to tie himself down, not for someone he only liked, and he knew he could never love Kristen. It was a relationship of convenience for both of them, people wouldn't think for a second that Kristen was a man – even if all the indications were there – if he had a boyfriend, and Shawn would never be accused of being gay if he had a girlfriend. So they both took advantage of the situation to gain some experience, and quell the sexual frustration that comes with adult youth.

Shawn couldn't exactly say he was surprised when Kristen ran after his father handcuffed him for stealing a car, and he knew in that moment as his father pushed him into the back of the cruiser he would never hear from him again. Like most instances, Shawn's anger turned into sarcasm and snarky comments, it wasn't like he could actually tell his father why he was angry even if he did indicate he was so. So instead he laughed as his father dragged him through the police station, a bitter sweet smirk sticking in place on his alcohol chapped lips.

When Henry turned to the cop by the front desk and ordered him to book him, it took Shawn a moment to place the face. When he did though, he felt as though all the air had been ripped from the room, and he was once again that small scared boy on the beach, begging for a miracle, before cursing it when it came. Shawn had for some reason felt hurt when Carlton had failed to check in on him, betrayed that the only person who really knew what had happened was so far out of reach. His hurt and betrayal had slowly but steadily morphed back into hate for the slightly older male, and it had been fed by years of nightmares and night terrors.

So now, when he looked to Carlton Lassiter, who was still wearing an expression of shock, confusion and panic, Shawn's anger was only intensified. He turned back to his dad, hateful words spilling unchecked from his mouth as a look of humour and indifference played across his features. He was told he'd have to spend the night in the cells, but he only finally breathed a sigh of relief when the clock in the holding cells hit seven, signalling the end to his father's work day. Unfortunately that was also the time Carlton decided now was the best time to pay him the visit that was long over dew. For the first couple of minutes the two simply stared at each other, one standing, back straight and face blank, the other, seated, head rested upon clasped hand, expression exhausted.

"So your father really arrested you for stealing your girlfriend's neighbours car?" Carlton asked stiffly, before wincing at the mouthy question. Shawn raised an indifferent eyebrow.

"Yeah, he did," Shawn replied in the manner one would use when commenting on the weather. They fell back into silence then, till Carlton's sigh brought Shawn's attention back to him.

"I guess you never told your dad what really happened?" Carlton inquired, though he already knew the answer.

"No, I didn't," Shawn said quietly after a pause. "I didn't think he needed to know," Shawn continued, sitting back so he leant against the cell wall. "He assumed we just had a fight, which I guess you're paying for now." Shawn didn't let the guilt he could feel in his gut grow, Carlton still hadn't apologised.

"Actually I don't think he remembers me," Carlton replied, walking forward slightly so he stood at the bars separating him from Shawn. Shawn thought about that for a moment, and if he was honest, Carlton had only really been in his life for a couple of weeks in the summer of 1985, not long enough to make a lasting impression on his father, a man who didn't have the gift of an unforgettable memory. Shawn shrugged the thought off and looked back to Carlton, and frowned.

"What _is_ that?" Shawn asked.

"What's what?" Carlton inquired confused.

"That thing on your face," Shawn explained. Carlton's hand went up to his top lip, to the caterpillar moustache growing there.

"It's a moustache," Carlton relied defensively.

"It's hideous," Shawn corrected. Carlton glared. "I'm serious, it's criminal," Shawn smiled at his comment, and he swore he saw Carlton's lips twitch in response. "You're a copper now, shouldn't you be careful about how you treat the law?"

"Well I'm only a cadet at the moment, though I'm hoping to reach detective somewhere in the near future," Carlton relied.

"Well good luck to you detective," Shawn said with a tilt of his head. "From what I hear from my dad, it's worth the time you put into getting there."

"Oh, speaking of which, the chief said you could go as soon as your father went home. He said he doesn't want officers bringing their problems from their personal lives into the precinct," Carlton said remembering his reasons for coming down to the cells in the first place. He pulled from his belt a set of keys and after a bit of fumbling succeeded in opening the cell door. He paused when Shawn made no move to leave. "You can go," Carlton rephrased. Shawn closed his eyes, pursed his lips and drew in a long breath through his nose.

"Where?" Shawn finally spoke, his eyes meeting Carlton's. "Cause I sure as hell aren't going home," his words were spoken through tight lips and a stiff jaw, too exhausted to hide his anger behind a façade of cruel humour.

"There has to be somewhere you can go," Carlton said, taking a single step into the cell. Shawn shook his head.

"Gus' parent's hate me," Shawn clarified. "I've got no other friends."

"Gus," Carlton mumbled. "Gus. The black kid who's getting into pharmaceuticals?"

"Yeah," Shawn replied. "Hey," Shawn began confused. "How old are you? Cause I always had you pegged as being like, I don't know, five, six years older than me." Carlton snorted as he made his way over to sit beside Shawn, unsure how the teen beside him had jumped from the previous topic to said topic. "But you don't look much older than me."

"I just turned twenty one," Carlton informed Shawn.

"So three years older than me," Shawn mumbled with a nod.

"You're eighteen already? Wow, do me a favour, stay off the roads for a couple more years till this temper of yours cools," Carlton said after a low whistle, Shawn grimaced.

"Well I'm not exactly eighteen yet," Shawn mumbled. "Anyway this is off topic," Shawn said as he rose. "Thanks detective, you know, for letting me out."

"Not a detective yet," Carlton mumbled as he rose alongside Shawn.

"Oh but you will be," Shawn said, brushing the comment off. "You know what Carlton, you're not half bad."

"Thanks?" Carlton said with a quirked eye brow.

"See you around detective," Shawn called out as he made his way up the stairs and out of the basement.

"Hey Shawn," Carlton called out following him. "That goes for you too."

"What?" Shawn asked as he turned back, an officer watching the two curiously as he held the door open for Shawn.

"You're not half bad either." Shawn grinned, deciding, just maybe, Carlton would have to make regular appearances in his life from then on.


End file.
